


Considerabam Amor

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester. [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel does too much thinking for his own good, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Feels, Gen, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Possibly Unrequited Love, Protective Dean Winchester, Self-Reflection, no beta we die like men, you can read this as requited or unrequited tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: Cas knows he loves Dean Winchester, and sometimes it kills him, but more often than not, it saves him.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & himself
Series: Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126853
Kudos: 6





	Considerabam Amor

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This fic has been sitting in my Docs for close to a week now, and I just got around to editing it. I'm not really sure why I wrote it, and it doesn't really have any plot to speak of, but I hope you like it, anyway!
> 
> I wrote Cas as human in this fic, so I guess it's set during that period of time when he was human for a bit, but honestly, just make your own headcanons. I didn't bother to look up the actual timeline. This can be read as requited or unrequited love, I think, whatever suits your fancy <3 There is no real Destiel development, just some cute platonic/"platonic" handholding and a lot of Cas thinking about how much he loves Dean. 
> 
> The title of this is in Latin (of course) and it's just because I'm on a languages binge lately. I almost named this 'Thinking About Love' but ended up deciding to translate that into Latin instead, only to find out that in Latin it's "love is thinking" which I find beautifully poetic in the context of this story, so I kept it. 
> 
> Without further ado, let's get on to the story! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Sometimes it hurt Castiel’s heart to think about how, after centuries, _millenia_ , of feeling nothing, one man stumbled into his life and made him feel everything. 

Dean Winchester, a fiercely loyal and stubborn-to-a-fault hunter with a guilt complex and more trauma than Castiel could even name, and yet, somehow, he made Castiel _feel_ in ways he never had before, in ways he hadn’t even known he could. Dean Winchester was what fairytales were made out of - the fairytales that were written for Cas, anyway. The fairytales that made life out to be what it was instead of the spot behind the rainbow where nothing bad could ever happen. Cas loved those fairytales, because they could come true. Dean had proven that. 

In a way, Cas supposed that Dean might have been the one looking for something to hold onto, instead of the other way around, but Cas liked to think of it in his own head as something akin to a second chance waltzing into his life right when he needed it. 

Dean had taken all of his doubts, every single feeling that had ever invaded his chassis, and he had squeezed and ripped and shoved and pushed until _everything_ was laid bare, until Cas could no longer deny the truth of what was right in front of him. 

The angels were _wrong_ , and Heaven was corrupt, and God was gone at best and dead at worst. Cas had no one to answer to, not really. It was all a big scheme, a plot to keep him in line, and he had fallen for it. It was Dean who opened his eyes. 

In many ways, Cas knew he had Dean to thank for who he was and how he’d gotten there. Without Dean, Cas would still be a soldier, blindly following orders and utterly indifferent to the destruction he left in his wake. There would be no limits to what he would do, and sometimes it was frightening to think about. 

And sometimes, Dean would call him right when Cas needed him to, almost as if they were connected somehow and Dean just _knew_ , in the way that Cas just _knew_ sometimes when it was Dean in need of him, and it was okay again. They would go out for drinks, maybe grab dinner, and just talk and breathe and occupy the same space, take a minute out of the world to be together, and it was _wonderful_. Castiel hadn’t known, before Dean Winchester, that just _being_ with someone could be such a pleasant experience. That the presence of another could be enough to wash away his own thoughts and self-doubts and troubles with all of the ease and none of the burn of a whiskey glass. 

There were a lot of things that Castiel hadn’t known before Dean Winchester. 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was enough to snap Cas from his thoughts and back into the present, and he blinked once, twice, before focusing on the hunter and giving him his best ‘I’m listening’ look. Dean snorted, and Cas knew he didn’t buy it. Dean could always see right through him, read him in a way that no one else could - a skill that was mirrored in Cas’s ability to read and understand Dean. 

“Sammy and I think the vamps are holed up downtown,” Dean was saying, and he pointed at an area marked in red on the map. “Probably at the old Chester barn; Sam said it was abandoned. Perfect nesting spot, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cas replied. 

“So what say you and me go take ‘em out? Sam’s busy doin’ somethin’ with Eileen, so I said we’d take care of it.” Dean was fired up, raring to go, and Cas couldn’t decide if he loved or hated the look. On one hand, at least Dean was happy. On the other, he hated that it took a hunt - the opportunity to kill something, to get some blood on his hands - to make Dean smile. 

“Sure,” Cas agreed readily. Any opportunity to spend more time with the hunter was something he was loathe to miss out on. “Let’s go.”

With that, they left the map on the table, geared up, and headed out of the bunker and towards the vamps’ nest. 

~ ~ ~

By the time they got there, night had fallen, which made their job ten times harder. Cas could tell that Dean was tense by the set of his shoulders and the way he held his machete - like it was another limb, an extension of himself, almost. He gripped his own machete tightly and followed Dean’s lead into the barn. The last thing he needed to do was rush in like an amateur and get Dean hurt. He’d already made that mistake one too many times, a fact that made his stomach churn with an uncomfortable, guilty feeling. 

“C’mon,” Dean murmured, pushing forward. Cas followed. They infiltrated the stable room, checking it over twice before they moved onto the empty horse stalls. The old barn creaked with the wind as they moved, and Cas _knew_ that it wasn’t a sign of something supernatural, but the sound still made chills race down his spine. 

“Steady,” Dean said, almost like he could hear Cas’s thoughts, and Cas’s heart skipped a beat. He really had lucked out with Dean. He doubted any other hunter worth his salt would even let Cas into the building, inexperienced as he was. But Dean had faith in him. 

They cleared the horse stalls quickly, making their way towards the very back of the barn. Cas was starting to think that Sam had been wrong and the vampires’ hideout wasn’t in the barn, when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps rushing past and stopped in his tracks, exchanging a quick glance with Dean to see if he’d heard them, too. A short little nod, no more than half a second, confirmed that he had. 

Cas gripped his machete tighter, readying himself to protect and defend and kill, should any of the vampires attack him or Dean. He wished he knew what he was doing more than he did, wished that he had the years of hunting under his belt that Dean did, but he didn’t. Cas knew as well as the next person that practice made perfect and this, hunting with Dean, gaining experience, was what was going to make him better, but the fact of the matter was that Cas wasn’t used to having to _try_ to be good at anything. 

He _was_ an angel, after all. Or, well, he used to be. 

Dean swung, faster than lightning, and chopped the head off of a vamp Cas hadn’t even seen in the darkness. He cursed himself internally. He really had to pay better attention to his surroundings and what was happening. He was going to get them both killed at this rate. 

“Next one’s headed your way!” Dean warned, and Cas did his best to match the hunter’s swing with his own, though the cut was decidedly less clean than Dean’s was. Cas tried not to be too upset about it. He just needed more practice. 

“How many of them are there?” Cas asked, slicing his machete through the air and beheading another two vamps that tried to sink their fangs into his arms. 

“Don’t know,” Dean called back in between grunts of exertion and the slick sound of metal on flesh. “Too damn many, that’s for sure.”

Cas got the message loud and clear; they were outnumbered, and the situation was becoming dire. 

He grabbed his cellphone while the vampires were distracted trying to take a bite out of Dean, hoping against hope that Sam would pick up. He was too afraid to leave Dean in the room with them, and they needed help. Sam would help. 

“Cas?” Sam sounded rumpled and his voice was slurred with sleep, like he’d just woken up. “What is it?”

“We need help,” Cas said, breathing hard. “Dean and I are backed into a corner and overwhelmed. We need backup.”

“We’ll be right there,” Sam promised, and disconnected the call. 

“Cas!” Dean shouted. “Little help over here?” Cas cursed to himself and jumped back into the fray, trying to draw the vampires away from Dean and towards the door where Sam and Eileen would come in. It would have worked, too, if he hadn’t underestimated the two vamps that had crept up behind him. 

All Cas heard was the scream of a vampire before everything went black. 

~ ~ ~

When Cas woke up, it was to the sound of hushed voices and his name on Dean’s lips - not for the first time, but Cas would never tire of hearing it. 

“I’m telling you, Dean,” another voice that Cas identified as Eileen’s said, “I checked him over. He’s fine. He should wake up soon. I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean shit,” Dean growled, and Cas could just picture the way his fists were clutching the mattress, or the way that he dug his combat boots into the floor next to his hospital bed. This scene was one all too familiar for both of them, and Cas hated it. He knew that Dean hated it, too, maybe even a little more than Cas did. 

“C’mon, Dean,” Sam said, and there was an undercurrent of warning in his tone. “Eileen’s just trying to help.”

“Yeah.” Dean exhaled hard, and Cas could see the way he scrubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a minute, clearly in his mind’s eye. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good, man. And so is Cas. He’ll wake up soon.”

“Yeah.” 

“I can wait with you if you want,” Sam offered. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean replied. “Thanks though, Sammy. And thanks, Eileen.”

“Of course,” Eileen replied, and she and Sam left, closing the door gently behind them. Cas knew the moment they left because Dean collapsed onto the mattress, curling up next to Cas. It was an intimate position that they’d only found themselves in a few times before, and it was something that Cas knew Dean would hate for his little brother to see. 

“Man, don’t do that to me,” Dean murmured, and Cas was almost positive he wasn’t supposed to hear this, but he listened anyway. “I thought you were dead. Those vamps sure did a number on you.” Dean inhaled shakily, grabbing ahold of Cas’s trenchcoat to steady himself. “You’re human now, Cas; you can _die_. It was fuckin’ scary seein’ you with all that blood. Reminds me of Sam, when he was dyin’ a while back, or when Mom burned on the ceiling.” 

Cas struggled to keep his facial expressions under control as he listened. This was the most Dean had ever talked about his feelings to him in one sitting, at least in a way that wasn’t so roundabout it was hard to grasp, and he didn’t want it to end. Any glimpse into the hunter’s mind was something to be treasured. 

“I can’t just _lose_ you,” Dean said, and Cas could hear the tears in his voice. “Not now, not after everything. You mean too much to me, man. To us. Don’t know what I’d do if you just up and left.” 

“I would never do that,” Cas stated matter-of-factly, unable to help himself. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed. “Don’t do that! I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” Cas lied. He opened his eyes and struggled to sit up, blinking owlishly at Dean. Dean reached out to steady him, and settled him against the pillows like he would a younger hunter that was injured in a fight. It made Cas’s heart ache. He didn’t want to be treated like just another hunter, or like Dean’s brother - Dean was so much more to him, and he wished that he was even half as much to Dean. 

“So, uh, how much of that did you hear?” Dean asked, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. 

“Not much,” Cas replied carefully. “Just that last part, about you needing me.”

Dean made a face at Cas. “I never said that.”

“It was implied.”

“Yeah, well, my point stands,” Dean said, swiftly changing the subject away from himself and back to safer grounds. “Don’t just, fuckin’, _talk_ outta nowhere like that, man. Damn near scared the shit outta me.” 

“I apologise.” Cas couldn’t help but smile at the way the hunter scolded him; he wasn’t angry, not really, and sometimes it amazed Cas that they knew each other well enough to just _do_ that, to joke around and bitch at each other and pretend to fight like they’d known each other all their lives. 

“Glad you’re okay,” Dean managed to choke out, and Cas had to commend him for that. Dean’s no-chick-flick-moments rule seemed to have extended from Sam to him, and sometimes getting the man to talk about serious topics was like pulling teeth. 

“Did you three clean up the vamps’ nest okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, beaming proudly. “Chopped the heads off all twenty seven of the bitches.”

“Good,” Cas replied awkwardly, shifting in his hospital bed. ‘That’s...good.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. 

Even though he knew Dean didn’t like to be stared at, Cas couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man’s face - from his soulful green eyes to the frown lines on his face to the smattering of freckles across his nose, he was beautiful. Dean Winchester was beautiful, and in a world where little often made sense, that beauty - beauty that came from the inside as much as the outside - was sometimes the only thing Castiel could count on. 

Cas reached out and took Dean’s hand in his, tangling their fingers together. Dean made a little sound of surprise, but he didn’t move away. Cas sighed, not unhappily, and thought to himself that he could be okay with this. Whether or not Dean ever chose to take the next step - if there was even a next step to be _had_ \- Cas would be happy. 

For now, he had Dean, and that was all that mattered. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](https://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> I offer chaos, a place to scream about Supernatural & other fandoms, and a lovely community in [this Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) that I run with my friends! We welcome everyone, and we'd love to have you. <3


End file.
